17
As we climbed the hill one of the harpy’s gray feathers floated down past me. “What did you throw at the-um, lady?” I asked Asher.
He smiled. “A little concoction of my own that merely burns the flesh, or feather, for a moment.”
“Unless that creature happens to be a darkness, I would wager my estate,” Roger spoke up.
I looked over my shoulder and arched an eyebrow. “Doesn’t the estate belong to Violet?”
Roger cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. I meant the estate my father plans on leaving me, from his side of the family.”
The hill became more steep so that all our focus turned to keeping a dignified gait and not crawling on our hands and knees. I stumbled, but Asher’s strong arms kept me from falling. He leaned me against him, and I couldn’t help but enjoy his warmth. I
